


o captain, my captain

by atheoryon



Series: Mandatory Fun [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 09:30:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18443786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atheoryon/pseuds/atheoryon
Summary: Bumping into someone at the airport wasn’t the worst thing, in general, but it was when said someone was carrying a cup of coffee, which spilled over Bucky’s pristine white shirt. Amidst the following cursing, Bucky thanked his lucky stars the coffee was cold, which, why was the guy drinking cold coffee, who did that, but lucky him. The guy he’d bumped into was apologising profusely at this point, and as Bucky finally looked at him to wave it all off, it had been his fault after all, he realised four things.One: Cold Coffee Guy was really hot, all concerned blue eyes and blonde stubble and biceps.Two: He was a Captain, judging by his outfit, which fitted him too tight to probably be decent.Three: He was Captain Hot Voice, which sounded even better in real life.Four: The shirt he was wearing was his only proper shirt he had with him, given that he was flying back first thing in the morning and he had a meeting in three hours.





	o captain, my captain

**Author's Note:**

> based on the mfd prompt for clint in uniform, and the fact that the captain from my flight back from greece had a nice voice.
> 
> title from the poem by walt whitman, which has p much been taken over by marvel edits i feel like.
> 
> this is also my first time writing from bucky's pov which has been. difficult. also i wrote this in half a day and with a severe lack of sleep. cheers.
> 
> also technically posted on saturday for me, but it's still night and this is hosted by a bunch of americans so it's good

One of these days, Bucky thought, he was going  to quit his job. He was going to quit his corporate hell at Stark Industries, much as he loved Tony, but the job itself? He’d rather be a brainwashed assassin. It was all capitalist bullshit, fake smiling and elbow rubbing with conservative dicks, and plane flights so frequent he felt he might as well live out of a suitcase.

 

Currently, he was on his way to Tokyo from New York City, a flight that took way too fucking long, honestly, couldn’t Stark just… invent a teleport already? He was a technological genius, it should be doable. At least, that’s what Bucky thought as he tried to rearrange his long legs into a slightly more comfortable position. 

 

The only upside to his constant flying was that he felt justified in not paying attention to the Captain’s greeting and the safety instructions. Blah, blah, sue him, he might die, but this was his third flight that month and the instructions were always the same and he didn’t care about the Captain wishing him a nice flight.

 

As he was contemplating his various career options that didn’t include people or planes (his money was on an animal shelter), he drifted off into a blessed sleep. 

 

Well.

  
Blessed for about two hours, when he was woken up by the plane shaking with turbulence. Grumbling under his breath about Zeus and his bad timing for dramatic appearances, he sat up a bit straighter and started paying attention to the Captain explaining what happened.

 

A decision he immediately regretted, because Captain’s voice was Hot, capital H and everything. Yeah, he had a thing for nice voices, and even through the shitty airplane speakers his voice was deep and gravelly and you could just hear the smile in his voice even with the fucking turbulence, and fuck, it had been a while, Bucky was well aware, but he really wasn’t in the mood to get a semi in a fucking airplane, much less while it was shaking like Thor himself had decided to start tossing it around.

 

Sighing, he tugged on his jeans a bit, but quickly gave up as Captain Hot Voice decided he had to add more information about the specific type of turbulence they’d been dealing with, and Bucky was pretty sure that wasn’t what the communication lines were meant for but he honestly couldn’t care less because Captain Hot Voice genuinely sounded excited about it, now that they were out of the turbulence.

 

The second he was allowed to get up again, Bucky wanted to run towards the shitty airplane bathroom, but settled for struggling out, being happy he was near the back of the plane, where there weren’t too many people, and the bathroom being unoccupied.

 

Cursing himself for being about to rub one out in an airplane bathroom because of some random guy with a hot voice, he locked the door and undid his jeans, immediately taking himself in hand to the sound of Captain Hot Voice going on about different kinds of clouds.

 

\---

 

He was so fucked.

 

He was so, _so_ fucked.

 

What Bucky didn’t know however, was just how fucked.

 

At the moment, he wasn’t the one who was fucked however. That honor was entirely bestowed on the dumb fuckwit on the other end of the line who, Bucky suspected, had about one neuron firing per minute, which was then used to breathe. If that. In his anger, he was mostly focused on his phone and trying to navigate through the airport, not watching where he was going but looking at the screens. This meant that, of course, he bumped into someone. 

 

Bumping into someone at the airport wasn’t the worst thing, in general, but it was when said someone was carrying a cup of coffee, which spilled over Bucky’s pristine white shirt. Amidst the following cursing, Bucky thanked his lucky stars the coffee was cold, which, why was the guy drinking cold coffee, who did that, but lucky him. The guy he’d bumped into was apologizing profusely at this point, and as Bucky finally looked at him to wave it all off, it had been his fault after all, he realized four things.

 

One: Cold Coffee Guy was really hot, all concerned blue eyes and blonde stubble and biceps.

Two: He was a Captain, judging by his outfit, which fitted him too tight to probably be decent.

Three: He was Captain Hot Voice, which sounded even better in real life.

Four: The shirt he was wearing was his only proper shirt he had with him, given that he was flying back first thing in the morning and he had a meeting in three hours.

 

He was so fucked. 

 

He had however, managed to make his mouth and brain work for long enough to hang up the phone with a quick “I’ll get back to you” and made sure Captain Hot Voice didn’t drown in his own guilt, which left only the problem of his shirt. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra shirt with you, do you?” he asked, not really aiming for a serious answer, but he was pleasantly surprised as Captain Hot Voice nodded and told him to come with him to the nearest bathroom.

 

“Clint Barton, by the way” Captain H- Clint introduced himself as he fished a shirt out of his carry-on bag and handed it to Bucky. Somehow the name fitted him, Bucky thought, as he introduced himself as well. He quickly loosened his tie and stripped off his uncomfortably wet shirt, but couldn’t help but pause for a moment when he noticed Clint’s eyes were drawn to his well-defined abs and V-lines. Yes, okay, he’d jerked off to just his voice in an airplane bathroom a few hours ago, but that had been purely theoretical, he’d never even considered the person the voice belonged to, let alone that he’d be interested as well.

 

He took his time buttoning up the shirt and when he looked into the mirror, he caught Clint’s eyes, who looked away and went a little pink at being caught checking him out. Taking a split-second to imagine the disappointed-but-not-surprised reaction his friends would have for trying to pick up the pilot, he grinned at Clint in the mirror. “Like what you see, or do you want the reverse?” 

 

Clint, not missing a beat, grinned and said: “Not only is that a terrible line, you also took off your shirt less than a minute ago.’ Bucky just shrugged how it was always worth a try, but couldn’t help the feeling of relief that came over him when Clint stepped closer to him, backing him against the wall. 

 

When asked about it later, Bucky would claim that he somehow caught the lack of reasonable brain activity from the cursed phone call that got him there in the first place. Right now however, he was backed against a wall, with Clint in his stupid good looking Captain’s suit, with his stupid twinkling eyes, and stupid grin and all the rational-decision-making bits of his brain decided to shut down and instead focus on getting his blood south. It was with this lack of rational thinking that just before Clint kissed him, he blurted out: “I jerked off to your voice on the plane.” 

 

Clint froze for approximately one, two, three seconds, before he swallowed thickly, shook his head as if to clear it, and crushed his lips against Bucky, working a leg between his thighs and managing a quick “tell me more” between dirty kisses, first to his mouth, then his jawline and neck, then sliding down to his knees on the cold tiles of the airport bathroom, where someone could walk in at any point.

 

Bucky was so, _so_ fucked.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://www.atheoryon.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> leave a comment if this maybe didn't completely suck and i'll get some proper sleep for next week's prompt.


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